


Derailed

by Madame_Klancealot



Series: Off the tracks [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Sex, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), Coffee Shops, Eye Contact, French Kissing, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Sexy Times, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 11:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20563451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Klancealot/pseuds/Madame_Klancealot
Summary: Two boys standing in line at a coffee house, making eye contact, which leads to sex?





	Derailed

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when Madame gets drunk one night, watches Call me by your name for the first time, sobs for twenty minutes, then at last, writes some porn to feel better. 
> 
> Don't know what this is- it's been a minute since I've written smut, so just take it for what it is.

Keith was like the raging train Lance hadn’t expected. He was just there while he stood in line in the coffee house, waiting ever so patiently for his turn to give his order. The boy was around his age, give or take two, maybe three years younger, but still old enough to make an impasse on, or-? Maybe give him a curt nod and an appealing blue-eyed wink. But we all know the coffee house, ever the persistent juvenile in the need for money and shouting for  _ NEXT!  _ when the time was right to interrupt. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hold ya horses. Hey, name’s Lance. I’ll take a venti iced caramel macchiato.” He winked a blue bouncing eye at the barista when his turn slid through and could order after having wait in line for the past ten minutes. And without ever crossing the rest of the flash of his signature smile towards the hot black haired dude who stood behind him, who was unfortunately too caught up on what was happening on his phone than the rest of the world. 

Lance thought his loose, large red sweater was hiding a nice gift for him, if he had made the daring move of showing his face to the hot raven dude, but yet, he was too impatient and all that went on in his coffee deprived head, was coffee. No, CAFFEINE. 

At a loss for caffeine and still too sleep deprived, oh, and sex deprived if asked nicely, and if one looked like his line companion, Lance regretted all of his moves from the moment he walked into said coffee house, stood in line, and then peered at the menu on the wall up above him, then to eventually turn around and catch the epitome of hotness himself, and then to lose himself in the act and not have the guts on his side to flash the smile that was so easygoing, so lax, so fucking lucrative once peeled all the way. 

Still, there was something about the blackness of the man, er- boy, Lance still wasn’t sure, who stood behind him that had him questioning his position of what is the okay or the hell no of checking him out and asking if he wouldn’t mind a super, duper, short but long quickie with him while he was on his lunch break. 

He didn’t look that young. Lance was at the grand age of 24 and working his dream away as the assistant to one of the unbelievable criminal masterminds in the fashion world, Miss Allura Altea, and jebus, saints, the lady knew what she wanted, and it was NOT a melted iced caramel macchiato, and definitely not the caramel skinned man himself as she swung the other way, what with her girlfriend Romelle who was at the fucking firm, all. day. long. 

Not that Lance could ever complain, as her taste in fashion was a smidge more advanced than the tanned Cubano. Well, he was new to all of this, and, as the the others at the firm concluded behind his back, he was also  _ beb _ . Not that he minded the nickname, but, gosh, he was 24, the hotstuff with the angered smirk behind him was more beb than he had ever witnessed till now in during his internship days. 

“Iced caramel macchiato, for a, Lonce?” Ugh, it’s like Allura was following his every move. Can’t they get his name right just once? It’s not that hard, so many people are named Lance!

In spite of it all, Lance knew Allura couldn’t fire him. He was her best assistant so far, she had said so. So, to lay back all the hogwash and that his name had been pronounced wrongly for the millionth time just this week, Lance took the beverage and scouted a vacant place to sit. He was going to enjoy this on behalf of his ice cold boss. 

He grabbed the drink, smiled coyly at the barista who called his name, “It’s Lance, darling.” Then went to navigate a place that had his name written all over it. Which was not all that easy. It was a fucking math quiz, it was. 

He finally found a spot, even with one vacant next to him, thinking he was lucky and could leave his thoughts to the person on his left and himself all alone. That was, until, someone with an acute fragrance of clean sheets and the abrasive scent of, was that Enchanted Rose? Lance decided not to take any strong notice of the scent. But unobtrusively, to his will, he couldn’t leave the scent as it took over his nose and made a home in him. 

Sliding his eyes to the side, he caught a venti mug filled with piping hot black coffee. “Rough day, huh.” Lance had pointed out, not urging for anymore smalltalk. Just making conversation as was his talkative nature. 

The boy, or, the almost in his twenties teenager, he still assumed, made an aggravated stare at him, blowing away the steam rising from the mug. 

Thus, begun the tale of the two boys, er, men and their journey of forbidden lust, again, Lance liked to call anything forbidden, just to spice things up. 

Lance had no idea his words would catch on that ravaged at the boy. But, once his words cut into his brain, his gorgeous fair-skinned self went from a cute angry boy, to an all stoic and hot, sexy man. Lance had no idea what he had caught that day, but his bed had made room for him with no hint of protest. 

“Fuck!” Lance clenched his teeth when the impact of strict, adventurous hands made their way to his hips. Them clenching harshly on the dampened skin of his hips. “You…” Lance sucked in desperately, already breathless, “don’t have any ounce of compassion, do you..mullet?” Lance sneered at the black haired beauty he was able to catch on his hook at the coffee house. 

Long strands of silky, black locks tickled Lance’s neck, his breath hot on the skin of neck, and he knew he was smiling like a mother fucker when he said, “Shhh..don’t let the rest of world know, Mr. Bigshot.” The boy had said, his voice laced in want, a long drag of a breath leaving him when his mouth made Lance’s neck into an afternoon snack. 

It hadn’t taken long for them to leave the coffee house and made their way into Lance’s apartment. First of all, the abrasive boy with the intimidating black locks, had smiled like he wanted a quick fuck when Lance asked what he was drinking. Then within minutes, Lance had mentioned that he was the number one assistant of  _ the _ Allura Altea and that was all it took. 

Not that Keith knew who this Allura chick was, but he did know, with every fiber of his twitching cock, that this Lance guy, he was the essence of raw hotness and needed, so desperately, to sink his canines into him, or else he would turn around and drown in an ice bath. 

“Black coffee is good for you, compared to that sugary crap you call a beverage there.” Keith had offended Lance’s drink, but it didn’t put a frown on the tan man’s face, but instead, a qualm smile that slowly formed into a sexy smirk as the line of his smile slightly turned into something that made Keith’s pants go tight as a good fuck itself. 

Lance made a raw hiss. Keith answered with another loud moan, his mouth coating the warmth of the column of Lance's long, delicious neck. Keith never knew what starvation meant until his mouth was met with the dip between shoulder and neck and the face that had the name Lance McClain. 

Drugged to the core when his mouth sweeped barely the skin that had become damp as soon as their bodies tumbled happily in the bed, Lance’s mouth becoming a GPS and guiding his lips from point A: Keith’s forehead. A soft kiss, his lips pressing like a feather at first, but the grunt Keith had made, caused Lance’s lips to travel frantically down to his mouth and grab those luscious lips in a devouring hunger, the room had echoed over and over again with names being yelled out loud. And that was only their kisses. 

Whimpered cries escaped in bubbling sounds from the back of Lance’s throat as Keith made his feverish path with his lips down to the inside of his thighs, kissing them lightly at first, but once the cries traveled their way into his ears, into his cock, he started biting, then sucking, hard. Once his mouth made a low groan and left the region of inner thigh, a bruised, darkened mark had started forming on caramel skin. Then another one, and another one, it was all so good, but Lance was sure the bite of his new friend was going to be the death of him. 

He thought back to the coffee house again, how they had been so stern and set on doing this during his lunch break. How Lance had this sudden surge into him with all this lust and passion, that it turned him into a right dick towards his boss, sipping gingerly at first of her drink, then sucking it dry, preparing himself for any sucking that was going to happen in t-minus ten minutes. 

It didn’t take any of the two long to show their sudden want for each other. Two strangers, hanging out in a long line, thirsty for something that contained something to kickstart their hearts, and none of them knew at first that it could have been the person next to them. 

Once Lance had sucked his iced coffee, or sugary drink, dry, he felt a sudden touch of foot next to his, hitting his shoe plenty of times for attention. That was when he was lost, thinking, wishing he had the guts to ask this boy out, even though he knew the raven-haired god who was sitting next to him was younger, much younger than Lance; one time, he had thought, one time wouldn’t hurt? 

“Fuck, Jesus in hell.” Lance clenched his teeth again, as Keith stuck three digits in his ass pulsively, quick with the flow of pumping him, prepping him good for the anticipated fill he knew, that _ that _ , was definitely going to be the death of him. He grabbed a pillow, smacking it on his face to bite at the soft material and mask away any more cries that were on their way punching up through his long, already bruised, throat. 

“Ah, ah, ah...Mr. Big Shot Assistant. No biting anything, unless it’s me. I wanna see your face when I fuck you raw.” Keith, the college kid, who was bashful at first, trying to hint at a casual fuck by trudging his sneaker against Lance’s loafer, his face coated as red as a chilli pepper, then to come here, devouring Lance’s body with his pretty little head stuck between his thighs and grabbing his pillow to proceed at flinging it to the floor, then shoving two fingers in his mouth for more lubrication and pump him again. 

This boy, he knew what he wanted, and had become this overconfident, too proud, sadistic asshole. And you know what, Lance couldn't complain, no, he was loving every single second, drinking till the last drop, sucking him dry. Which to his surprise, seemed borderline impossible as he just kept on going and going. 

At first, he seemed humbled, cute and careful even, when they walked into Lance’s apartment. "Hey, nice place." He had chatted, when Lance opened the door with a piece of confidence he wished could flow into him at the moment while being guided on the bed by Satan himself. 

"Thanks, I'm borrowing it. Now no time for chit chat. Follow me." Lance was so hungry, since it was basically his lunch break, and working for that witch pulled on his energy level, but starvation overtook him once he had laid eyes on this boy, who was following him to the bedroom, the violets in his eyes, Lance had noticed, turned into a cosmos of unbearability, utilizing them to burrow into Lance’s soul, almost enough to crack open the button on his pants just by staring at him. 

They had made it to the bedroom, Lance a bit fickle with his hands, not knowing what to do with them. Place them on the boy’s neck, then ride them up to his cheeks, caressing him, but that would have been too sincere, too affectionate when they didn’t even know each other. 

Instead, Lance had found the ledge of his bed, leaning against the frame, staring the college boy down with his tentative, yet, starved eyes. The boy, whom he had shaken hands with on the walk over, and learned his name was Keith, he just stood there, two feet away from Lance leaning on the bed frame, who probably looked miscalculated, trying to look sexy in his expensive slacks, shirt and dark grey vest, but the boy didn’t show interest in his clothes. He had shown interest by taking it all off. 

Lance knew there was a spark between them when their eyes met in the line. Somehow they both just knew. Felt those heated vibrations slide out of them and into each other. Now those heated vibrations were creating electrical ripples all along Lance’s spine, his stomach, the touch of Keith’s hands gripping under his thighs, his fingers digging harder and harder into his scorching, sweat drenched skin. 

Before the first touch, Lance had looked at his watch, an expensive Rolex, "We have 25 minutes to burn some calories before I NEED to be dressed and out that door." He was still leaned against the bed, staring the boy down as he walked closer to Lance, his lips so perfectly defined and parted slightly, his tongue pushing out and licking his chapped ruby red lips, and Lance felt the need to cross his legs, but he wanted Keith to see the growing bulge of his pants. 

  
  


Keith’s gaze had dropped, locating a swelling bulge, someone’s cock twitching achingly for a taste, a touch, a hard grip. "Will 25 minutes be enough?" His voice was coated in something slick, Lance had thought when Keith asked the crass question, which also made him beg for the boy to touch him already. Start unbuttoning him, crash his lips against his own, eat him up, they didn’t have long, and he wanted to use those short minutes for sex, not biding their time circling each other like predators. 

Still on the hunt, Lance liked him already, he knew there was something about this kid that got his dick throbbing for a taste. "For what?" Lance had played along, tapping his expensive watch to create a forced panic in the hot black haired boy. 

"You know…" his cheeks revealed a lovely flushed red, "to-to prep." Where was the kid's confidence? Lance had to do something about that. 

Keith had finally made a move, moving his hands along Lance’s ribcage, the flats of his gloved hands traveling from his chest, then smoothing down the frame of his body towards his belt. Lance blinked, and the belt was slapped off, his slacks unbuttoned, vest torn off, shirt ripped free, revealing smooth sunkissed bronzed skin. 

Then Keith, on his knees, took his tongue and rode it from the hairy part under Lance’s belly button, slicking a line all the way up to his neck, sucking a mark first before his lips happily settled on Lance’s mouth. Once their mouths collided, Lance fell with his back on the bed, taking Keith along for the ride. 

“Off, off, off, off, off..” Lance had chanted energetically, unzippering Keith’s red hoodie, tugging achingly at the hem of his black t-shirt and pulling it off in light speed, “Remember boy, 25 minutes. 22 now. The clock’s ticking.”

“Yeah, and my cock’s twitching, here.” Keith had torn off his skinny jeans with no precision at all, they looked tight, but the jeans were off before Lance could start counting down the seconds. 

Both in their boxers, Keith became that daring boy Lance thought he could turn him into with his seducing expertises, but maybe, he could learn a thing or two by the younger one. Keith’s lips were dripping with lust, his fingers crooking around the stretch of Lance’s blue boxers. 

And his length was finally sprung free. "Hello, handsome." Keith had pleasantly greeted Lance’s dick before he carried on and sunk his lips over the tip, swirling his wet tongue in circles over the drenched slit before sinking deeper and deeper, head bobbing. Oh, he was a master at the bob. Lance could feel his toes curl automatically once the boy's lips sunk further and further, lips cradling perfectly around him like they were made for this exact day to ravish them both. 

Lance jolted. Keith released, his swollen mouth leaving a  _ pop _ which gathered a tickling smile from the both of them. "You know." Lance had flown a greedy hand at Keith's mane, bunching a fistful of black silky locks to pull him closer, then smoothing his hand down on the boy's cheek, a thumb tracing a scar that didn’t look pretty when it happened, when he released the softness of  _ Enchanted Rose _ . "In Italy, the word Ciao can also mean hello." 

That gained him an indifferent look from his bed companion but a cute chortle escaped him, his hands resting gently on Lance's inner thighs, pressing down desirably like he was ready to paint a portrait by memory of touch. "Okay, go on." Keith prompted, done with his meal for the moment, flicking a violet gaze at the expensive Rolex, they had fifteen minutes left. Plenty of time, Lance thought, but Keith’s lust was telling him otherwise. 

“No, you just greeted my cock with a hello, I just thought a Ciao would be much more refined, and, exotic.”

“How about an Aloha, so when I’m finished with you, either one of us can decide how fucking exotic we wanna be. Deal?” 

“Capiche.” Lance tugged at the back of Keith’s neck, bringing his lips to his, the taste of bitter coffee slamming his tongue, the smell of dizzying Enchanted Rose never leaving his nose, “Fuck, there’s so much going on here, I don’t know what’s left or right.”

“I can tell you what’s right.” Keith said between their kisses, grabbing his own dick, lining it up against Lance’s rim, ready to make that first thrust, “This is...” Keith started digging in slow, a tiny, very low squeal leaving Lance, but the boy sucked it out of his mouth with a hungry kiss, his tongue ready to sweep away any more of those watery whimpered cries, “Right.” His voice went sadistic again when he punched out the word, like he was mocking Lance again, which also, Lance was all set to board upon. 

This train called Keith, he was so ready to let him ride him, staying on the tracks for the time being, but once his dick pushed all the way in with such a pensive force, Lance was derailed. He was gone, a scream of Keith’s name gutted out, preemptively followed with showers of moans stinking up the whole room in sweat and cum. 

“Fuck, me..” Lance tried to screech out with each thrust Keith made into him, his dick huge, the fair-skinned boy’s hand going wild at Lance’s throbbing dick, pumping him. Time was of non-existence as oblivion took over their drive, Lance on cloud nine, his head lolled back, back arched, his stomach slamming into Keith’s the harder he slapped into him. “Close..” Lance murmured, his voice surrendering to the tightness. 

Keith moaned in reply, his head almost falling on Lance’s chest, “I-I..shit.” His gloved hand sucker punched the soft mattress, his body going lax, falling like a feather on top of Lance. 

Sticky and satisfied, Keith rolled over to the vacant side of the mattress, his breath heavy. Lance mimicked the rhythm of Keith’s breathing, asking his lungs to bring him back to life after this amazing quickie. Imagine a whole night like this, he’d have to order a grave stone in advance. 

Keith glanced at Lance’s watch. “Time?” Keith breathed desperately out, still at a loss for air. 

“Five minutes to spare. Can I ask you something?” Lance rolled up to his elbow, leaning on it so that he could look down at the worn out boy. 

“Shoot.” Keith quirked a lip, his hand resting on Lance’s cheek. “Fuck, your skin is so soft.” He added without thinking, but that earned him a kiss from Lance, which was a bad idea since their kiss grew into more kisses, then Lance towering over Keith ready for round two, but alas, no more time. 

“Damn, damn that witch….anyway,” Lance was on top of Keith now, a playful finger flicking at Keith’s nipple, making it perky. Lance wanted to suck it so bad. “You are in college, right?”

“Scared a high schooler fucked your brains out?” Keith gutted out with a wet laugh, winking a violet spark at Lance, “Yeah, college, sophomore year. I cut class because of this, if I fail my exam, I’m blaming Mr. Big Shot Assistant.” 

“Well then, if my boss, Allura Altea-”

“Whom you’ve already mentioned, both by her name and as Allura.” Keith joked, his hands mapping Lance’s tense back, his fingers sliding over each vertebra, his fingertips suddenly tracing along the lines of his own scar, which got Keith wondering. 

Lance scrunched his nose in distaste, but made a smile as all was good between them, “If I get fired by her, I want you to know it was worth it.”

“All for a 25 minute quickie? I mean, if you get fired, I feel obligated to make it up with something longer than a quickie.” Keith teased, but his face was serious. 

There was something about this boy, that made Lance think he didn’t want to let go of him. A quickie might not be enough. Scratch that, he knew the quickie wasn’t enough, but he knew he wanted to spend more time with this boy. Regardless of their five year gap. So he was a little younger than him, Lance felt like the younger of the two when Keith fucked his brains out just now. 

“Is that a proposition? You want me to get fired!?” Lance pressed his hands on Keith’s chest to get up, and fling himself out of the bed, getting dressed again. 

“Maybe….” Keith hummed with satisfaction, a pleasurable growl leaving him when he got out of the bed and curled his arms around Lance’s waist, warm lips tingling his neck. “Fuck, the marks..” Lance plunked a hand to his head. 

Keith went as far as to keep his lips on Lance’s neck, immaturity his true nature when a new mark bruised him. “Keeeith…” Lance whined, dropping his head in defeat, but hummed happily when Keith tightened his hold around Lance’s waist. 

"So, will I see you again?" Keith asked, his bashfulness creeping back. So fucking adorable. 

Lance didn’t hesitate to answer, his smile mirroring Keith’s, like they both possessed something dear and didn't want to lose it. He turned around, circling his arms around Keith’s neck. "Just listen for the name Lonce, and you will see me again." Lance answered, thinking what he said was stupid, but endearing all the same, hoping that got a leash around Keith’s cock, and his heart, don’t worry, he wasn’t only after one thing. 

Keith’s lips blossomed into a beautiful smile. “I’ll listen. Ciao, Lonce." He then said making his way out of the apartment, giving Lance a sparking wink and a two finger salute. 

“Aloha.” Lance said back, leaning his head on the doorframe staring at the boy who turned Lance’s world topsy turvy, but he’d buy a new ticket and gladly get derailed again. 

Easy. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might make a part two - we shall see *eyes*


End file.
